


Scared But Fearless

by AbsentMinds



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Panic Attacks, Tumblr Prompt, idk if this is even good i'm just posting it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26360497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsentMinds/pseuds/AbsentMinds
Summary: Based on the tumblr prompt "I am scared. I don't know if I can do this."
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 7
Kudos: 22





	Scared But Fearless

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the anon tumblr user who sent me this like 3 months ago! I have this week off from work so looks like we're writing boys.

Even when Nesta was little, she had been forced into showing people that she was fearless. Her mother had instilled in her that showing emotions, especially fear was unseemly. All that young Nesta had known was that her mother's eyes would shine with pride when she sat and watched rather than joined in with the other children playing. The pride in her mother's eyes was never something that she could voice, her mother would never tell her daughters that she was happy with them or proud of them. Voicing her anger and shame over them was much easier. 

Nesta had become something like a shield for her younger sisters by the time her mother died. Nesta would take the brunt of her mother's disdain and disgust for children, leaving Elain and Feyre to happily do as they pleased. They had asked Nesta to play with them when they were younger, but as they got older they had given up, thinking that Nesta simply didn't want to play with them. 

Nesta had always rather played with her sisters whose laughter could be heard ringing throughout their house than sat with her mother bitching about the neighbourhood girls and women. She couldn't be a child though. Nesta had to be a lady from the moment she was born. She was just glad her sisters had been able to be children. 

Even their father had treated her like a grown-up. With him, she hadn't felt pressured though, she had felt special. He would talk to her about his trade, ask her opinions, share his problems with her. She had been his favourite as a child, but even that had come at a cost. When they had lost their fortune, she had tried to make him get up, do something, but suddenly he didn't care for Nesta's opinions. Suddenly, being his favourite held no sway with him, and she realised that despite being treated as an adult, she was just a helpless child. Nesta knew how to be a lady, but she didn't know how to be useful in poverty. She could only be angry in poverty. 

Nesta was so good at hiding her emotions from others that she sometimes felt as though she hid them from herself too. She would sometimes surprise herself when she felt fear. After being Made, Nesta felt fear all the time. She was in a whole new world, nothing she knew would ever be the same again. She understood nothing of the way this world worked, her sister was traumatised, and she probably was too. She didn't linger on her trauma for very long. She couldn't linger on it then. That was probably a mistake. It was probably the reason why after the war she was so consumed by the trauma. 

Right now, all she was consumed with was fear. Nobody knew about what she could hear when there was a fire roaring. Nobody else seemed to notice the way a fire crackling sounded like the snapping of bones, necks twisted in ways they shouldn't, pleading eyes as wings broke. She had kept it concealed from everyone. She used blankets to keep me warm, layered them up until she was practically suffocating. She would rather suffocate under her blankets than light a fire. 

Tonight she couldn't escape the fire. They were everywhere, thanks to some Illyrian festival which meant they lit bonfires and let fireworks off all night. The nights were cold anyway, and the bonfires that were lit all over the camp were warm and inviting to sit next to while admiring the view of the fireworks lighting up the night sky. 

Nesta had known tonight would be tough. She knew that without her alcohol she wouldn't be able to drown out those wretched noises. The loud bangs from the fireworks and the low crackling of bonfires filled the air, and Nesta wanted to curl up and sleep forever. She didn't want to hear anything anymore. She knew she was being overwhelmed. When she had been trying to help Elain after they had been made, she had read about sensory overload. She had made sure Elain wouldn't suffer that when they were newly Made, after she mentioned that she could hear Lucien’s heartbeat. She knew the signs well enough to know that’s what she was going through right now. Even then, Nesta didn't move from her spot next to Emerie. 

Emerie had become Nesta's friend, although Nesta would never say that out loud. She knew Emerie would never say it out loud either, but that was what made them friends. They were similar enough to understand each other, without being so similar that they clashed. She knew that Emerie was glad Nesta had come tonight. Emerie had mentioned the festival casually enough, but Nesta could tell that she had hoped Nesta would attend. She might have told Emerie no if it wasn't for the fact that Nesta knew that Emerie needed Nesta. Nesta being there made it easier for Emerie to be a lady, to ignore the Illyrians and the way they glared at Emerie. Nesta drew their attention away from her. Nesta made people feel strong, even if she didn’t feel that way herself. 

The old Nesta might have enjoyed the shock on Cassian's face as Nesta had walked over to the bonfires with Emerie. Cassian's eyes had widened, and his mouth hung open in shock. It was his saving grace that the Illyrians were too nervous around Nesta to even notice the awestruck look on the face of their General. 

The current Nesta, couldn't even bring herself to care about the way Cassian looked at her. She was too busy focusing on not crying or throwing up. Her walls were up, and she was sat stiffly, trying to block out the noises. She could do this. She could control this, for Emerie. Nesta Archeron was not someone who showed fear. 

A group of Illyrian males walked up and added more fuel to the fire, making it spark and crackle, even more, burning with new strength and intensity. Nesta felt her stomach churn at the noises and tried to take deep breaths to settle her stomach. She could do this, she could conquer this fear. She would not let anyone see her weakness. 

Nesta was pulled out of her focus by a hand coming to rest softly on her shoulder. She looked up, away from the fire that had hypnotised her and saw Cassian looking down at her, worry painted across his face. Nesta looked away, not wanting to think about Cassian and his emotions right now.

Escaping Cassian and his emotions, however, was a different story. She knew he could read her well. Too well. After the first time, Cassian had lit a fire in the little living room in his cabin, he had noticed her. He had seen the way she had gone white as a sheet and left the room. He had heard the gagging, as she dry heaved in the bathroom. She hadn’t had any food for a while, probably too long, but she had been thankful since it had meant she didn’t have anything to throw up. 

“Come with me, let’s get out of here” Cassian murmured, so only Nesta could hear. 

She wanted to refuse. She wanted to ignore him, to pretend he couldn’t see right through her. She hated asking for help. She hated people seeing her vulnerable, especially when it was Cassian. She cursed herself for being so weak. Her mother would be so disappointed in her for letting a man help her. But Cassian isn’t a man, he’s a male. Nesta remembers that her mother would likely have tried to kill her if she saw the abomination she had become. 

Nesta stood up. She fire was making her delve into thoughts that she knew would hurt her. She knew she did this when she wanted to drink her problems away, thinking of the worst things so she would hurt herself. She needed to get out of here, and Cassian knew that. 

She followed Cassian blindly, not even paying attention to her surroundings. All she could hear and think about was the fire, and what it sounded like. The memories were flooding her. She couldn’t keep them at bay. She was weak, and she had failed at keeping her mind in check. 

**"I am scared. I don't know if I can do this."** Nesta didn’t even realise she had spoken until Cassian froze. She hadn’t meant to blurt out her thoughts, but something about Cassian made it hard to control herself sometimes. He always made her do the opposite of what her mother had ingrained in her. 

Cassian had stopped in the middle of the path, which she realised would take them back to his cabin, far away from the fires. He slowly turned to look at her, his golden eyes not leaving hers. “It’s normal you know? For people who have seen things like you saw to be haunted afterwards. There’s no shame in it, and no shame in asking for help.”

Nesta felt her throat tightening. She knew she couldn’t talk or she would cry. She could feel her eyes filling with tears, but she didn’t look away from Cassian. 

Cassian held out his hand, offering it to her like a lifeline. Nesta stared at it for a second, wondering what this would mean to Cassian, to herself if she held his hand. She didn’t let herself think about it any further and took his hand. The warmth radiating from him seemed to soothe her slightly. He stepped towards her cautiously, as though he thought she might spook, like some kind of startled animal. He was careful not to cage her in, not to get too close. 

“It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel things. You’re allowed to be scared. And more importantly, if you think you can’t get through this on your own, you are allowed to ask for help. It doesn’t have to be me, ask your sisters, as Emerie, as a stranger, but as for help. I don’t know what you’ve been told in the past Nesta, but one of the biggest strengths I’ve ever seen. I know it’s hard. I still struggle to ask for help myself.”

Nesta could feel a few tears escape and felt Cassian’s hand twitch, as though he wanted to wipe it away but didn’t dare. She didn’t know how Cassian always seemed to know what to say. He always knew what was going on with her. She hadn’t known she needed someone to tell her it was okay to ask for help until he had said it. The contradiction to her mother’s instructions. Hearing someone else say it, out loud was almost a shock to the system. 

“Take me home please?” Nesta managed to croak out. 

“Always” Cassian whispered, as he led her to the cabin, not letting go of her hand that seemed to be keeping her grounded. Cassian kept her grounded. He knew that, and she was starting to see that. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please send me requests on my tumbr, or leave a prompt in the comments!


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